


A Crack in the Mirror

by ddpoweredbycoffee



Series: A Crack in the Mirror Series [1]
Category: Star Trek, Star Trek: The Original Series
Genre: CITM, Comeplay, Counselor Spock, Dirty Talk, GODDAMIT, Hurt/Comfort, It's just a lot of sex, M/M, Parallel Universes, Parallels, Porn With Plot, Porn with Feelings, Sorry Not Sorry, Spock is a "Good Boy", Threesome, Threesome - M/M/M, Well some plot, You've been warned, and feelings, doppleganger sex, huh that isn't already a tag, or Dopplegängers if you prefer
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-07-12
Updated: 2017-08-08
Packaged: 2018-12-01 04:27:46
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 7
Words: 19,765
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11478597
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ddpoweredbycoffee/pseuds/ddpoweredbycoffee
Summary: Nearly two years after the events of "Mirror, Mirror", Mirror Spock returns with an unusual request.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> This is something that popped into my head after rewatching "Mirror, Mirror" (don't ask). I love Mirror Spock, but I also love Original Spock, so...voilà! 
> 
> I will warn that Mirror Spock will probably not come across like Original Spock or even Mirror Spock from the episode. Mirror Spock in this story has been through a brutal revolution where it was imperative for him to form relationships/alliances with humans. It changed him, made his human side shine a little brighter, if you will. Anyway, this is unbetaed and please pay attention to the tags. This is a smutty fic (with some feelings, goddamit), but it might not be everyone's cup of tea. 
> 
> For those of you who stick around, I hope you enjoy.

Kirk flips the appropriate switches and pulls the lever down. The musical hum of the transporter fills the room. He is alone, as requested, but not for long.

In a flurry of bright static, a form begins to materialize on the platform. The outline is much larger than he remembers, but he patiently waits until the figure solidifies and clears.

Blood red. That's what he processes first. Like a waterfall of gore it cascades off the figure's broad shoulders in a long cloak trimmed at the neck with a thick ring of rich, dark fur. It claps together at the chest with a...a silver Starfleet insignia.

Kirk brings his eyes up to a dark beard framing beautifully curved lips, and then up to a pair dark eyes. His breath hitches, and his heart flutters in his chest.

"Commander Spock," he croaks, then clears his throat. "Welcome aboard the Enterprise."

Spock steps off the transporter in slow, deliberate motions, not taking his eyes from Kirk.

"Captain James Tiberius Kirk," the man's voice is like gravel in his throat. "Always a pleasure-- and it's Admiral."

A gold, four-point star glitters in the light from the fur of his cloak.

"My apologies, Admiral," Kirk says quickly with a slight bow of his head. "I hope the transition was peaceful."

Spock's eyes glimmer with amusement.

"Yes; as peaceful as a transition can be in the midst of a revolution, Captain," he replies, taking a step closer. "It has been a long time."

Spock then inspects him freely up and down with an arched eyebrow, not a hint of inhibition in his stare. The captain swallows nervously under the intense scrutiny, but takes the moment to do the same of his guest. His dark hair had been cropped short when he, Uhura, Dr. McCoy, and Mr. Scott had been inadvertently transported to this Spock's universe during an ion storm, but now his long locks pull into an elegant knot at the back of his head with a few shorter, runaway strands falling onto his face. A scar slices through his right eyebrow down over his eye until it reaches his cheekbone. The sage green hue of the injured flesh indicates that the wound is relatively fresh. It had not been there the last time he'd seen him.

Kirk reaches over to the command console and flips a switch.

"Mr. Scott, is the route to the briefing room prepared per my instructions?" he asks, taking relief in breaking away from the keen gaze of the admiral.

"Aye, Captain; all corridors leading to the briefing room from the transporter room have been cleared and secured, sir," comes Scotty's thick accent in answer.

"Is Spock still on the planet's surface?"

"Aye; I'm locked on his coordinates as we speak, sir."

"Very good, Mr. Scott; maintain status until we arrive at the briefing room. We're on our way now."

"Aye."

Kirk is just about to release the switch when Scotty speaks again:

"Pardon me, Captain, but...is it really him? I mean, is it really Mr. Spock from the mirror universe, sir?"

Kirk glances up at the other man, who returns his gaze in turn, waiting for his answer to his chief engineer. The captain swallows again.

"As I said, Mr. Scott, maintain status," he says, then adds, "And have Mr. Spock join me there when he returns with the rest of the landing party."

"Aye, Captain."

"Thank you, Mr. Scott. Kirk out."


	2. Chapter 2

_Captain's log Stardate 4047.4:_  
_At approximately 1400 hours, the Enterprise received a transmission from Starfleet Command about contact with a mysterious being claiming to be Commander Spock from a parallel universe. The message requested an audience with myself and indicated that he would speak only to me. He insists his mission is peaceful. Alarmed, but increasingly curious, Starfleet Command granted the meeting, and has tasked me with discovering his methods and intentions for entering our universe and determining whether or not he is a threat to the Federation. It has been almost two years since I, with other members of my crew, were transported to his universe, and I have a few questions of my own._

"Can I get you anything, Admiral? Coffee? Tea?" Kirk asks the Vulcan sitting at the long table in the briefing room. "...Brandy?"

"No, thank you, Captain," Adm. Spock answers with a slight smile, causing Kirk's hand to falter as he pours a cup of coffee for himself. "I sense you have many questions."

The captain takes his seat at the head of the table. He watches Adm. Spock leaning back, almost relaxed, with his long cloak draped over the back of his seat. His black uniform clings to his body in ways he tries to ignore. The rigid fabric suggests it also serves as some sort of armor. His eyes trail over the four silver lines wrapping over both shoulders. Another silver insignia rests on the left side of his chest, and a long, silver dagger sits at his hip. He glimpses the tip of another emerald scar just above his raised collar before he quickly looks away.

"How long has it been, Spock?"

"Exactly 1 year, 8 months, 2 weeks, and 5 days, Captain," Adm. Spock answers easily.

Kirk traces his mouth absently with his finger. He can feel Adm. Spock's eyes on him, the way they sear into his skin. There is nothing threatening about the man per se, and he finds he's not actually afraid. He's...curious, mostly...and nervous for reasons other than potential harm. His body heats beneath his uniform.

"In the transporter room you mentioned your ascent to the admiralty was peaceful for a revolution."

Adm. Spock nods.

"Affirmative."

"What of the revolution, Admiral?"

A buzz sounds from the door.

"Come in," Kirk calls.

The door slides open with a soft swoosh, and Spock steps inside, his hands clasped behind his back.

"You requested my--"

His voice cuts off abruptly when his eyes meet the other man in the room. In his science blue Starfleet uniform, cropped black hair, and bare face, Spock is a stark contrast to the Admiral. Each cock an eyebrow at the other at the same time, and Kirk stifles a laugh.

"Captain?"

"Please, Spock, take a seat," Kirk motions to the chair beside him.

Spock settles himself in the seat, not taking his gaze from his counterpart across the table.

"Admiral, this is Commander Spock, my XO and science officer, and, Spock," Kirk glances at him and nods at the Admiral. "This is Admiral Spock of the parallel universe."

He watches Spock inspect the admiral; he can practically see him cataloging ever bit of information given to him in his mind.

"What do you make of me, Mr. Spock?" Adm. Spock asks with a slight smirk.

Spock opens his mouth to speak, and closes it, then opens it again.

"I am not sure at this time, Admiral," he answers.

Adm. Spock grins at him, bewildering the both of them. Kirk clears his throat once he's managed to reclaim his faculties.

"The revolution, Admiral," he reminds him. "What of the revolution?"

To his dismay, the smile falls from Adm. Spock's face.

"The revolution began shortly after your visit, Captain," he starts. "When our own crew was returned to our universe, the captain became increasingly paranoid. He had already been so, which is why he had managed to climb the ranks within the Empire so quickly, but this was much worse..."

Kirk shifts uneasily in his seat at the mention of his own counterpart-- of the man who could murder Captain Pike in order to take his place and slaughter thousands in a rebellion uprising on another planet. Him-- in another universe. Adm. Spock continues:

"Lieutenant Moreau eventually confessed what you said to me in the transporter room before your departure, Captain. Our captain sentenced me to death for treason against the Empire, but by then I had gathered enough support aboard the ship to mutiny. We were able to take control of the ship with little casualties and I confined the captain to the brig with heavy guard."

Next to Kirk, Spock listens silently, his chest moving slowly with steady breaths.

"I tried to reason with the captain, to explain the futility of continuing the Empire, but I was unsuccessful," Adm. Spock pauses briefly before continuing. "He and a few other crew members escaped with the two shuttlecraft on board. When I tried to stop him, he gave me this as a farewell gift."

Adm. Spock gestures to the scar over his eye. Kirk exchanges a quick glance with Spock, unable to comprehend even the mere thought of harming him.

"The shuttlecraft he boarded had been damaged during the ion storm and was still undergoing repairs. The planet we were orbiting began pulling him in, but the fuel compartment was unstable. The shuttlecraft burned up in the atmosphere."

A long silence blooms between them. It presses down into Kirk's chest until it feels as if he's suffocating.

"And the other shuttlecraft?" he finally mutters quietly.

"Controlled by Mr. Sulu and Mr. Chekhov; while we were attempting to save the captain, they made their escape. They intercepted the ISS Constitution fourteen hours later. And the revolution began."

Adm. Spock stares down at his hands and draws in a deep breath before releasing it in a steady exhale.

"My faction approached the Klingons and the Romulans to form an alliance against the Empire. They were reluctant at first, but they too believed in a universe of peace and growth," the admiral smiles softly. "Despite their gentle nature, Klingons can be ferocious warriors when provoked, as well as the Romulans. With their aid, we were able to take control of Starfleet headquarters and overthrow the Empire. We are now in the process of rebuilding—starting anew."

Kirk grins at the admiral. It’s not everyday one inspires a revolution.

"You lead a revolt against an Empire that controlled most of the known universe?" Spock asks.

Adm. Spock's turns to him.

"You seem to forget, Mr. Spock, that we are Vulcan," he says with a smirk and a quick wink.

Spock's dark eyes shimmer brightly at him as his lip twitches subtly.

"How did you manage to pass through from your universe to ours, Admiral?" he continues.

Kirk leans forward in his seat.

"Yes; and how it is possible for you to be here alongside our own Mr. Spock. Last time, our counterparts switched."

Adm. Spock chuckles, a low, dark sound that sends a shudder through his body and an interesting twinge to his uniform pants.

“Your universe may find out soon enough, but I will not spend precious time to divulge our methods. I do not have long," he says. “However, I assure you, Captain—my visit is peaceful."

"What _is_ the purpose of your visit, Admiral?” Spock asks curiously, his hands clasp together on the table.

“To thank the captain, of course,” Adm. Spock replies, shooting a quick glance in his counterpart’s direction.

“So, you’ve traveled to another dimension…just to say thank you?” Kirk inquires with a smirk.

A small smile pulls at the corner of Adm. Spock’s mouth.

“Not exactly.”

“Then what?”

The admiral stares intently at Kirk as his forefinger traces the delicate curve of his upper lip. He takes a moment before answering.

“I wish to bed you, Captain.”

Kirk's body freezes. His mind goes blank and his mouth dry. Had he heard the words correctly? Is his mind playing tricks on him...making him hear things he never thought he could, but would be lying if he denied longing to hear them. In spite of himself, he steals a quick glance at Spock beside him. His dark eyes are wide.

"Excuse me?" Kirk finally musters.

Adm. Spock clears his throat.

“Perhaps I have not made myself clear,” he says. "I wish to fuck you, Captain.”

Spock opens his mouth to say something, but Kirk raises his hand to stop him.

"Why?"

The admiral inhales deeply and exhales before answering.

"We have just overthrown an empire built on savagery and fear, and although we are in the process of rebuilding..." he smiles at the insignia on Kirk's chest. "...a coalition very similar to your federation...there are still many divided factions desperate to regain control."

He glances away, his dark eyes taking on a slightly...sad glimmer.

"I have become a prime target. It is highly probable I will not live to see the full fruition of my work."

"We could help you...through this channel you've created," Kirk offers.

Adm. Spock chuckles again, which is not aiding the distraction growing in his pants. The admiral brings his eyes back to him.

"The channel is too unstable, Captain, I refuse to allow you to take the risk," he answers. "I myself have only six hours and forty-three minutes before I must return."

Kirk bites at his bottom lip, struggling with a decision. His thoughts are like mush in his head.

The admiral rises to his feet.

"I understand if you need some time, Captain; it is an unusual request. Please do not think I am trying to deceive you. Thus far I have survived an oppressive empire and a brutal revolution; I do not have the time or the patience to shroud my intentions," he says, surprisingly gentle; he takes his cloak from his seat and heads to the door. "I will be in my quarters when you are ready with your answer."

And he walks out the door.


	3. Chapter 3

_Captain's log Supplemental:  
In the initial discussions with Admiral Spock, who is indeed the parallel to our own Commander Spock, I have found no reason to consider him a threat to the Federation or our universe. His methods of travel are still unknown. He has, however, revealed the purpose of his visit by making a rather...unusual proposal. The admiral seems to believe his life is in danger, yet he does not request assistance. He insists this is due to the instability of the channel through which he traveled, but I still find it peculiar. Regardless, there is very little time before the admiral must return to his own universe, and I have yet to provide him with an answer. Before I do, I need more information._

Kirk makes his way down the corridor in hurried strides. His chest squeezes tight, inhibiting the proper function of his lungs. He wipes his clammy palms against his uniform. He's a mess, he knows. He hasn't been this nervous since...well...ever, really. What is he suppose to do, to think, to say, for gods' sakes? He's never had to make this kind of decision before.

Spock's soft footsteps behind him bring a little comfort as they near the admiral's quarters. At first, Kirk resisted the idea of Spock being present when he delivered his reply, but he soon rationalized that it would be best to have him there in case the admiral reacted negatively to his answer-- the answer he felt he had to give.

Kirk presses the button to announce his presence outside the door.

"Come."

The door slides open, and he steps inside, Spock close behind. Adm. Spock sits in his chair, his boots propped up on the edge of the desk as he flips the page of the book in his hands.

"Captain," he greets and glances up, his eyebrows rising subtly. "Mr. Spock, it's a pleasure to see you again."

"Admiral," Spock replies politely, his hands clasping behind his back.

"I am not satisfied with your answer to my question, Admiral," Kirk interjects harshly.

The man's eyebrows rise slightly higher.

"Oh?" he says, bringing his boots softly to the floor.

His dark eyes lock onto him like a tractor beam, and Kirk shifts anxiously under his gaze, his resolve faltering.

"You believe your life is in danger, yet you refuse our assistance. This whole mission, your travels from another universe, and your only request is to...bed me."

Adm. Spock sets the book on the desk.

"Yes, precisely."

"Why?"

"Because, Captain, the Empire has fallen at the hand of a resistance I lead-- that I am still leading. Those looking for revenge or a way to regain control will come for me to do so. The threat to my life is unavoidable, Captain. It is only a matter of time, and it is illogical to attempt to change something that is inevitable."

"His reasoning is logical, Captain," Spock says from his position near the door.

Kirk glances at him briefly through the corner of his eyes.

"Why me?"

Adm. Spock stares at him for a moment and then looks away. Kirk watches, his heart picking up speed in his chest, as the man collects his thoughts. When he glances back up, his eyes burn bright in the low light of the room.

"You know what it is like to lose a man, Captain...to lose a friend," he starts quietly. "You know what it is like to wash the blood from your hands, yet they never seem to be be clean...I never wanted this revolution, but you--"

Adm. Spock stands abruptly from the desk and moves closer until Kirk can feel the Vulcan heat radiating from him.

"You came to my universe, unwelcome and uninvited, and you planted that seed that grew until it became a force I could no longer contain..."

His dark eyes soften, and he sighs.

"Every man who failed to return from a mission, every friend who died before my eyes, I thought of you," he barely whispers. "Every victory, every loss, every time I lay in sick bay, drenching the sheets with my own blood, I thought of you, Captain. For 628 days, I expected each one to be my last, and I could think of nothing, but you."

Kirk stares, eyes wide, at the man before him as he pulls in deep breaths in attempt to remain steady. Adm. Spock returns his gaze, his dark eyes deep and mesmerizing.

"This moment has existed only in my dreams, Captain," he murmurs. "And I cannot accept my fate without at least the attempt to make it a reality."

Kirk swallows, his uniform increasingly suffocating on his heated skin.

"What if I say no?" he inquires, his voice gruff.

Adm. Spock draws back his shoulders and lifts his chin in movements so small they would have been missed by anyone not familiar with the Vulcan.

"I will leave at once and return to my own universe. The channel will close behind me, and it will be as if I were never here," he answers firmly, his jaw set.

Kirk's stomach clenches unpleasantly at the thought of him leaving so suddenly, and he takes another breath to calm his nerves. His eyes flicker to Adm. Spock's elegantly curved lips.

"And if I say yes?"

There's a noticeable shift in the room as the air charges with something dark and electric. If he were to reach out his hand, Kirk expects it would crackle around his fingertips. Adm. Spock's eyes flutter closed, and when they open, his pupils are blown wide and smolder in a way that ignites a heat beneath the captain's uniform. He leans in closer towards his shoulder, causing Kirk's breath to hitch in his throat.

"Then, Captain," his words are hot and damp against his ear. "I will take you over to that bed...and I will wring you out...until you don't have the strength to move."

Kirk squeezes his eyes shut as a soft whimper escapes his lips. He feels himself hardening in his pants. Adm. Spock leans back to look at his face, his eyes hooded.

"What is your answer, Captain?"

Kirk swallows hard at his dry throat. Swirling wildly in his head, there are a million reasons he should say no. Each one is rendered meaningless, however, by the very persuasive argument being made in his pants. He wants this. He wants this so much.

"Yes," the word is out before he can stop himself.

The corner of Adm. Spock's mouth twitches, and he brings his fingers under Kirk's chin to tilt it up to him.

"I didn't quite catch that, Captain."

Kirk swallows again, his mouth arid. His heart pounds violently against his chest.

"Yes," the sound is barely a whisper.

"Louder, Captain."

"Yes! Please..." his voice cracks on his plea.

Adm. Spock's mouth splits into a broad grin. He leans down again and a low growl rumbles in his ear.

"Oh, Captain, I'm going to tear you _apart_."

Kirk gasps when a hand slips under his uniform shirt and trails gently over his bare hipbone. It sears his skin like fire. A gentle cough suddenly comes from behind him.

"If my assistance is no longer required, Captain," Spock starts, his voice slightly higher than usual. "I will return to the bridge."

"Spock," the admiral calls to him as he turns for the door.

The Vulcan pauses, tilting an ear back to him, waiting.

"I extend the invitation to you, as well," Adm. Spock says, gazing down at Kirk with a small smile. "If the captain also wishes it."

Kirk stares back up at the admiral before turning his head to Spock. He can see the tensed muscles under his blue uniform shirt, but he doesn't turn away. He doesn't refuse or even make a sound. He just...waits.

Kirk's heart pounds like thunder in his chest. There's no question in his mind regarding Spock; he's wanted this for a very long time. Over the years they've spent together, with every subtle flirtation and micro expression only he could see, every time he proved to be the very best damn first officer a captain could ask for--his affection grew. And now...this strange emotion exuding from his closest friend...does this mean Spock...wants this, too?

"Spock," he finally murmurs. "I want you to stay."

Spock whips around, his eyes wide. He stares at the captain, his chest rising and falling in quick breaths.

"And you, Spock?" The admiral inquires softly. "Do you want to stay?"

Spock's throat bobs nervously as he looks from the captain to the admiral and back again. He nods.

"Yes."

He clears his throat.

"I must admit, however, though I have engaged in intercourse before, I...I have never been with a male."

Adm. Spock smiles, his eyes glimmering in the dim light.

"There's no need to be shy, Spock; we'll be gentle," he says, his voice like gravel in his throat. "Won't we, Captain?"

"Yes, we will, Spock."

The admiral then turns to the captain, and without warning, presses his lips to his. His tongue slips between them, splitting them open and delving further inside. Kirk returns the action with enthusiasm, his tongue meeting his in a deep kiss that quickly leaves him breathless.

Adm. Spock pulls away, giving his bottom lip a quick nip as he does.

"Lift you arms if you want to keep this uniform in tact," he breathes.

Kirk does as he's told and the admiral peels his shirt up and off. The warmth of the room grazes his already overheated skin. Adm. Spock hums his approval as his eyes rake heavy over his bare chest like a physical caress. He brings his gaze up, his pupils blown wide.

He glances over at Spock, still standing near the door, and nods toward him with a smile. Kirk goes to him, hesitating briefly before bringing a hand up to the right side of his waist. His heart vibrates against his palm.

Spock raises his arms and the captain removes his shirt, not taking his eyes from him for a moment. He finally does break their gaze to glance down at his bare torso. Being such a modest, private man, this is the first time he's had the privilege to see Spock like this-- and he's exquisite.

His pale green chest is covered by a thick layer of dark hair with a painfully alluring strip trailing down his abdomen and disappearing beneath his uniform pants. He weaves his hands through the hair, making Spock gasp as the silky strands tickle between his fingers.

Kirk leans in slowly, indicating the best he can his intentions. Spock seems to understand and responds by doing the same. His lips graze gently against his, feeling his breath more so until Kirk presses harder into the touch. He runs his tongue against his bottom lip and moans softly when Spock opens to him. He licks eagerly into his wet heat, diving into him as the electricity courses through his body.

Spock clings desperately to the waist of his pants, pulling him closer as they deepen their kiss. Kirk's finger grazes a hardened nipple hidden in the hair, and Spock cries out against his mouth. The captain pulls away, and Spock has a flush of dark green across his cheeks. He gives him a warm smile.

"Jim. Spock."

The sound of his name in that voice sends an intense shudder through his body. They both turn to the gentle voice coming from the archway of the bedroom where Adm. Spock stands patiently with a small grin.

Kirk takes Spock by the hand and leads him toward the admiral, who's still fully clothed. The captain looks up at him, asking a question without words. Adm. Spock nods, and Kirk begins unzipping the top of his black uniform. He sheds the rigid fabric and freezes.

Black ink swirls up the admiral's arms, dipping into the deep creases of his muscles. He doesn't understand their meaning, but Kirk recognizes the Vulcan calligraphy from examples Spock has shown him in the past. That's not what draws his attention, however.

The scar he caught a glimpse of previously on his neck slashes across his carotid artery in a pale green line a shade darker than the rest of his skin. Evidence of another serious wound stretches across his right side...over his heart.

Kirk looks up at him. Adm. Spock gazes back, though something visceral flickers in his eyes. He surges forward suddenly, taking the captain's lips roughly with his own before he has a chance to voice the question he knows he wants to ask.

Kirk opens his mouth to him, letting the emotion pour in with each flick of his tongue. The admiral pulls away and glances at Spock. He gently cups his hand behind his neck and pulls him in for a deep kiss. When he steps back, Spock's pink lips swell slightly from the abuse.

Adm. Spock gestures at their pants, and they quickly remove them along with boots until they're both left only in their regulation black boxer briefs.

Without a word, Kirk drops to his knees. The admiral's eyebrows rises slightly in surprise, and the captain unfastens his pants after also removing his boots. He pulls them down and reveals a stretch of silky fabric resembling undergarments. He discards the pants carelessly on the floor and tugs the fabric down.

The admiral's thick sage green erection emerges, bobbing with movement as it's freed. Raised ridges line the entire shaft, and it's completely coated with a clear, viscous liquid tinted a light violet that seeps down to heavy balls waiting patiently to be used. Kirk rests his hands on the man's strong thighs and gives his cock an experimental lick.

Adm. Spock hisses through his teeth, his fingers weaving though his hair. The fluid pools on his tongue, metallic and sweet like rain on a summer day. Kirk takes him fully into his mouth eagerly and the hands tighten in his hair. He hums around the hard member as it hits the back of his throat. He pulls back slowly before enveloping him again. His tongue discovers the strange fluid exudes from glands beneath the ridges-- ridges, which, to his delight, flare out with increased arousal. His lips catch on them as he pumps up and down, drawing rumbling moans from the man above him. When the sounds become muffled, Kirk glances up through his eyelashes.

The admiral dips his tongue into Spock's open mouth, licking deep. He then grips Kirk's hair tightly and pulls him off with a wet pop. The captain's eyes are glazed with lust and his lips feel heavy and tender.

"You are very fortunate, Spock," Adm. Spock murmurs. "Your captain has a very talented mouth."

Two sets of dark eyes gaze down at him in admiration, and Kirk gives them a dizzy smile. The admiral pulls him to his feet, then turns to Spock.

"Come, Spock; lay back on the bed."

Spock climbs on to the bed, his chest rising and falling with faster breaths.

"We need to open him up, Captain," the admiral murmurs, his eyes glimmering wickedly.

Kirk stares down at Spock, who returns his gaze from beneath long, dark lashes. His mouth practically waters at the prospect.

The admiral crawls onto the mattress, it dipping with his weight. He pulls him down with him, each taking a side next to the prone Vulcan. Adm. Spock presses his lips to Spock's and gently coaxes them apart. Kirk's own arousal aches painfully in his boxer briefs as he watches their tongues slide together, mouths moving in harmony. The admiral then pulls back, giving Spock a chance to catch his breath. It isn't long, however, before Spock grasps the back of his neck and seals Kirk's lips with a hungry kiss.

Adm. Spock peels away Spock's boxer briefs, freeing his erection from its confines. Kirk pauses his kiss long enough to grasp the member with a hand, and then chases Spock's moan with his tongue. The violet-tinted fluid gushes over his fingers as they rub against the ridges.

"Good, Captain," the admiral says as he hikes Spock's leg over his arm.

Spock moans again, louder this time, as the admiral breaches his entrance with a finger. More fluid spills generously into his palm.

"Oh, Spock," the admiral coos with a soft kiss to his thigh. "Already so wet..."

Spock groans into the captain's mouth. Another slick sound, and Spock is whimpering. Kirk licks into his wet heat fervently, pumping his hand over his rigid, leaking cock. The Vulcan suddenly cries out, his back arching off the bed, his hand clutching desperately at Kirk's shoulder.

"Mmmm, there it is," Adm. Spock hums. "Do you like that, Spock?"

Spock answers with a litany of moans and mewling sounds filling the room. Kirk looks at the admiral curiously, and the man beckons him with a nod. He slides down and palms at his straining erection for some relief when he sees Spock's hole stretched around two of the admiral's fingers, fluid dripping down his hand.

"Male Vulcans self-lubricate, Captain; before the Awakening, it was a necessity to form bonds with other males for protection. This is a remnant of our evolution during that time," Adm. Spock explains calmly as if he isn't knuckle-deep in his counterpart. "Fortunate for us."

He gives the captain a wink, and slips out one finger. Spock whines, and the admiral nips his inner thigh.  
Kirk slides his finger in along side the other and follows it up to a small, firm lump nestled deep inside. He rubs it gently, and Spock's toes curl into the blanket.

"Right there, Jim, keep massaging him right there. Open him wider," the admiral instructs and lifts himself higher up the bed.

Kirk slips in another finger and scissors them against his tight entrance before curling them up for another stroke. Gods, he loves the sounds Spock makes. Once the ring of muscle relaxes slightly, he inserts a third finger, his other arm wrapped under Spock's leg to hold him in place while he pumps them in and out. He grinds his cock against the mattress as fluid spills down to soak the blanket. He curls his fingers once more, pressing and rubbing against that little jewel inside. Spock wails loudly into Adm. Spock's collarbone at his side, his voice wavering.

"Do you need him inside you, Spock?" The admiral murmurs darkly into his pointed ear. "Do you need him to fill you?"

"Yes! Yes, please!" Spock gasps, clenching around Kirk's fingers, making him moan.

"On your back, Captain. We need to be careful."

Kirk's fingers slip out with an obscene sound, and he finally strips off his boxer briefs before flopping onto his back. He's practically vibrating with anticipation. The admiral gently lifts Spock up from the bed and guides him to straddle the captain's hips. He coaxes the captain's legs apart to allow him to kneel between them behind Spock. Kirk's heart thunders so violently against his chest it's a wonder neither of Vulcans have mentioned it. Adm. Spock gives his cock a couple firm pumps, making Kirk groan, and coating it with fluid before pressing the tip to Spock's entrance. Spock stares down at the captain with hooded eyes. Heat radiates from the Vulcan from the furnace waiting inside.

"Slowly lower down, Spock...just like that," Adm. Spock coaches gently from behind him.

Spock whines as Kirk breaches the first ring, slowly followed by the second. Kirk pants beneath him as he continues his excruciatingly unhurried descent, but he remains completely still to keep from hurting him. After what seems like ages, he's finally fully seated inside. He looks up at Spock, whose eyes are squeezed shut, his fingers curled against the captain's bare chest.

Kirk gives his hips an experimental roll so small it would have been missed by most-- but not Spock.  
His eyes snap open wide, his pupils completely engulfing any color that had been there previously. His lips part with a shaking exhale.

"Is that okay, Spock?" Kirk whispers.

Spock nods, and a green blush darkens his cheeks. Kirk lift his hips again, harder this time, and the Vulcan moans low in his throat. His pace is slow and incredibly gentle despite the fire burning in his lower belly, and he groans loudly when Spock's hole relaxes completely around him. It's something he's fantasizes about for years, but could never have imagined feeling like this...as perfect as this.

Spock drops his head back against Adm. Spock's shoulder and the admiral kisses his neck.

"Good boy," he growls and licks up the shell of his ear, taking the tip between his teeth.

Spock then flexes his strong thighs, lifting himself up, then back down onto Kirk's cock, nearly making the man pass out.

"Yes, Spock, like that," Kirk moans, wrapping his fingers around the Vulcan's hips.

Spock's chest heaves with desperate breaths as he sinks down again and again.

"Squeeze, Spock...now push down...that's it...milk him just like that..."

Kirk's eyes roll into his head and his back arches off the bed as Spock pulls current after current of electricity through him. His hips falter slightly when a slick finger teases at his entrance. Once the initial startle wears off, he opens his legs wider to give Adm. Spock better access as Spock pumps his velvety heat on his cock.

He cries out as he's breached, the finger slipping all the way in. Spock leans forward, resting his hands on his pectoral muscles as he quickens his pace. The first finger is soon followed by a second. The admiral thrusts them in and out, the fluid dripping down from Spock's stretched hole providing generous lubrication. Kirk's lower belly tightens at the sensations, coiling like a pressurized spring. Judging by the desperate pants escaping Spock's mouth and the hard drops of his hips, he's close as well.

Adm. Spock is pumping three fingers into him when Spock throws his head back with a loud whimper erupting from his tight throat, and dark blue fluid gushes from his cock, spilling across Kirk's chest. His hole flutters deliciously around him, and with the fingers stretching him eagerly, the coil in his belly releases.

Kirk's back arches off the bed as he fills Spock deep inside. His lungs pull in quick, shallow breaths as he floats down from his high. Spock leans down, ignoring the pool of sticky blue on the captain's chest, and kisses his lips between gulps of air.

"That was beautiful, Spock," he breathes with a smile. "You are so beautiful."

Spock gives him another deep kiss before rising back up to Adm. Spock.

"Perfect, Spock...such a good boy," the admiral praises with a wet kiss to his shoulder. "Now, go to the top of the bed. Catch your breath."

He kisses his shoulder again, and on trembling legs, Spock lifts himself off with a whimper and crawls up the bed. Kirk is about to sit up when the admiral hooks his arms behind his knees and pulls him closer. His dark eyes peer out from hooded lids as he pushes against the back of his thighs, exposing him completely.

"My turn, Captain."

And he pushes inside. Kirk cries out as the ring of muscle undulates with each ridge sinking into him. He arches off the bed, and the admiral shoves him back down with a strong hand on his chest, his fingers slipping lightly around his neck. The captain moans, feeling his constrained vocal cords vibrate against the Vulcan's palm, his cock hardening rapidly, to his surprise, despite his release only moments ago.

"Mmm, fuck," Adm. Spock curses as he bottoms out inside him. "You feel so good, Captain."

He gives a few, deep opening strokes until Kirk's hole relaxes around him enough to increase his speed. He sets a punishing pace, pressing back hard on his thighs until the captain is folded nearly in half. He drives in to him, hips snapping forward as his fingers tighten around Kirk's neck.

"So good on my cock, Jim."

Kirk whimpers, opening his legs wider. He clenches tight around the admiral, causing him to curse again and his hips to falter for a brief moment before he's pumping into him harder. Kirk wails against the sensation, all too much too soon and not enough all at once. His hands twist in the blanket above his head. Adm. Spock then leans down, the coarse hair on his chest sliding against him in the blue fluid still coating his torso.

"Every day, I thought of you, Jim," his breath fast and hot against his ear. "Every night I dreamed of this moment...how you would taste, how you would sound, how you would _feel_ \--"

He bites his shoulder to muffle his groan as Kirk squeezes him again, a smirk playing on the captain's lips.

"How do I feel, Admiral?"

Adm. Spock licks up his neck and bites him again.

"So fucking good," he growls against his skin. "Like hot, slick Argelian velvet-- fuck!"

The admiral clutches the captain against him, his muscles flexing tight and shimming with sweat, as he spills into Kirk. His pulsing cock and the heat filling him deep inside is as all the captain needs before he's toppling over the edge after him, painting their stomachs with thick white stripes where his erection is trapped between them.

Kirk relishes the Vulcan's weight pressing him into the bed as they catch their breath. He leans his head back to draw in long gulps as the admiral kisses his neck and licks at the sweat beading on his skin. A few strands of dark hair tickle his face where they've come loose from the disheveled bun at the back of the admiral's head, no longer resembling the neat, elegant knot he arrived with.

Long fingers weave into the captain's damp hair, pushing it away from his sweat-slick face. Kirk looks up at Spock gazing back down at him with a smile. He grasps the Vulcan's hand in his own and turns his head to kiss his palm.

Adm. Spock leans up on surprisingly steady arms. He smirks down at the kaleidoscope of colors smeared across his chest and drags two fingers from his stomach to between his pectoral muscles through the mess. He pops the digits into his mouth, licking up the pooled fluid. His eyes flutter close, and he hums around his fingers. His dark eyes then peer down at him under heavy lids. Kirk moans low in his throat.

The admiral grins and leans forward to pull Spock into a hungry kiss. Kirk groans again as the colored fluid coats Spock's tongue and fills his mouth.

"Such a good boy," Adm. Spock murmurs to the other Vulcan.

He glances down at the seeping erection between Spock's spread thighs and smiles against his lips.

"Would you like Jim to suck your cock, Spock?"

"Yes," Spock groans in reply.

Adm. Spock pulls away after giving him one last peck and moves back enough to grab Kirk's hips and, with a startled yelp from the captain, flip him over like he weighed nothing at all, ass high in the air. The admiral kneads the firm globes of his ass in his strong hands, spreading him wide.

"Jim, would you like to suck Spock's cock?" he asks, his breath hot against his entrance.

"Yes," the captain breathes, staring up at Spock from where he's propped up on his arms.

The admiral then licks a broad stripe from his balls and over his loose entrance, making Kirk whine.  
Spock moves closer until he's kneeling right in front of him, his straining member in his face. Kirk gives a teasing lick at the swollen, dark green tip, and smirks when the Vulcan grips his hair with both hands until tears sting at his eyes.

Spock presses the head against his lips, and Kirk opens wide. His member fills his mouth, ridges grazing against his teeth, and hitting the back of his throat. Kirk swallows against him, thankful for his ability to do so without choking-- a trick he learned at the academy. Spock pulls his hips back slowly before pushing back inside.

The tip of Adm. Spock's tongue teases at the slick, furled muscle of his hole, dipping in deeper past the first ring. Kirk moans around Spock's cock at the thought of the admiral tasting himself there, knowing he has been marked as his. Spock holds his head steady as he thrusts into his mouth, spit and fluid dripping down the captain's chin.

There's a shift behind him, and his loud groan is muffled as the admiral slides his erection between his cheeks, spreading fluid generously over his ass.

"I'm going to fuck you again, Captain," is his only warning before he's pressing into him, sliding easily into his loosened hole.

Kirk pulls back and moans as he's filled to the brim, stretching around him once more until he feels he may burst.

"Don't stop on my account, Captain," the admiral says with amusement as he brings his hips back and snaps them forward again.

He turns back to Spock and swallows his cock in one go, making the Vulcan gasp. He eagerly laps at the fluid, dragging his tongue along the ridges as he sucks him down. He braces himself on his arms as the admiral drives into him from behind, his breaths short and quick.

"Jim, wait!" Spock cries out, tugging his head back.

Kirk stares up at him, his swollen lips parted and shimmering with violet-tinted fluid, and the thrusts halt behind him. Spock looks at him, then to the admiral, then back at Kirk.

"I want to be under you."

There's a short pause, the the admiral chuckles. He slips an arm around the captain's waist and brings him against his chest.

"Alright, Spock; on your hands and knees."

Kirk watches with wide eyes as Spock turns and positions himself in front of him, his ass up high. The captain grabs his cheeks, kneading at the firm globes and spreads him wide. He presses his hips forward until the pressure gives way, and he slips inside his scorching wet heat, relishing the moan spilling from the Vulcan's mouth.

"Fuck," Kirk hisses as he bottoms out, his own ass clenching tightly around the admiral behind him.

"Language, Captain," Adm. Spock admonishes lightly, and pulls back before thrusting roughly forward.

Kirk grips Spock's hips, driving into him with the same fervor as the Vulcan behind him. The admiral's arm holds him tightly across his chest, his teeth nipping at his shoulder. He then grasps the back of Kirk's neck and pushes him down against Spock.

The captain grips Spock's silky locks and tugs his head back and around to seal his mouth with a sloppy kiss. His body trembles as his breath is punched out of his lungs with each thrust and his cock twitches inside a mewling, writhing Spock beneath him. He wails loudly as the admiral hits the bundle of nerves deep inside him, the ridges of his cock flaring wide and catching on his tight ring of muscle with each stroke. He feels the familiar white-hot spring coiling in his belly.

Spock cries out then, his hole squeezing tight around him and convulsing as the Vulcan soaks the sheets below him. Kirk bites hard at his shoulder, his mind beginning to go white.

"Oh, Spock, I'm gonna come!" He pants into his ear, driving back hard against the admiral's cock pumping in his ass before he thrusts forward. "I'm gonna come inside you, Spock!"

"Yes, Captain!" he whines, pushing back and pulling him in deeper.

Adm. Spock drives in again with a direct hit to the very center of his being, and his vision whites out. His throat rumbles with his cry as he floods Spock deep inside, adding to what he left before, and the admiral rides him out through his release. It's not long, however, before Adm. Spock's hips stutter and his teeth clamp down harshly on Kirk's shoulder as he drains into him. Trembling and panting, they take a moment until their hearts slow and their minds clear.

"Fuck," the admiral breathes against the captain's ear.

"Language," Kirk teases, turning to kiss his lips.

He then leans down and kisses Spock on the tender area just behind his ear.

After another moment, and some maneuvering, Kirk straddles Spock's shoulders, facing away towards his legs with his ass hovering just above the Vulcan's face. Spock spreads him wide and delves into him eagerly as the captain's tongue slips into Adm. Spock's mouth. Gently holding the back of Spock's thighs, the admiral sinks deep into his pliant hole.

"He's still so tight, Captain," he murmurs against his lips. "So slick..."

Spock's tongue spears Kirk open, dipping into the dark blue fluid left there by the admiral. Kirk tries to adjust his hips, concerned about Spock's access to air, but the Vulcan holds him in place with an iron-clad grip, licking and nipping. Kirk presses back onto him, and Spock hums contentedly.

Adm. Spock breaks their kiss and glances down where his cock disappears into the Vulcan beneath him. Kirk watches him make his long, languid strokes, white and violet-tinted fluid frothing around his girth.

"Mmm, do you see that, Captain?" his voice rumbling deep in his throat. "...me fucking your come out of his tight hole..."

Kirk grasps the back of his neck and crashes his mouth back to his. He bites down on the admiral's bottom lip, making him groan as his hips begin to move faster. Spock whimpers against his entrance, gripping his cheeks tighter in his hands.

Kirk wraps his fingers around the Vulcan's weeping erection and pumps his hand up and down, his fingers slipping over the ridges with a loud, slick sound. Spock arches up off the bed, but the admiral pins his hips down to the mattress, driving into him at a rough, but steady pace.

"Oh, Spock, yes, like that," he growls into Kirk's mouth. "Good boy..."

Kirk gasps as two fingers slide in to him next to Spock's tongue. He whines when they curl down to press on the sensitive nub deep inside, sending electric shockwaves through his body. Desire pools like molten iron in his lower belly.

"I can't come again," he whimpers. "I can't."

Adm. Spock laces a hand in his hair, gripping it tight, and pulling his head back to face him.

"Yes, you can," he states firmly before sealing his mouth with a wet kiss.

Kirk's hand is flying now, feeling the ridges of Spock's erection flare in his fingers. Adm. Spock pumps into Spock in desperate strokes, and the prone Vulcan licks and sucks enthusiastically at Kirk while his fingers massage the treasure tucked inside.

The captain's blood ignites, pulsing hot and fast through his veins, roaring in his ears. Then, with a sob, an electric current rips through his body, wiping out all thought, and his vision goes white. He hears Spock cry out in harmony with a low growl from the admiral as they follow after him.

Kirk's head drops down between his shoulders, panting as the sweat cools on his skin. Adm. Spock scoops two fingers through the fresh pool of white and dark blue fluid on Spock's torso and lifts them to Kirk's mouth with a smirk.

The captain wraps his lips around them, sucking and laving at them with his tongue until every drop of the sweet metallic nectar is licked clean. He then lifts his leg up and off Spock before flopping onto his back, exhausted and flooded with endorphins. He turns to watch the admiral lick up more of the mess from Spock's stomach, then crawl up to meet the Vulcan's lips in a deep kiss. The fluid stains his lips a faint shade of blue. He gives Spock one last peck as he gently pulls out and drops face down lower on the bed between them.

Kirk goes to reach for him, to feel him closer, but his body protests viciously at the movement. He settles back down and begins to laugh.

"Something you find amusing, Jim?" Spock asks, arching an eyebrow at him.

Kirk turns his head to him, his lungs burning and his eyes welled with moisture.

"I can't move," he says.

Spock chuckles, and Adm. Spock rises to to his elbows with a terribly pleased expression on his face.

"I am a man of my word, Captain," he beams, then leans down to kiss the side of Kirk's ribcage. "Though, to be fair, I did have Spock's assistance."

Kirk turns to Spock lying on the bed next to him, and the Vulcan does the same. He smiles as he laces his fingers in his and kisses his hand.

Adm. Spock plants a kiss on the side of Spock's rib cage as well before managing to lift himself on trembling arms.

"I have only 43 minutes and 34 seconds left, Captain," he says. "May I use your shower?"

"You should, Admiral; you are quite a mess," Kirk teases, and the admiral gives his thigh a swat before climbing off the bed and toward the bathroom.

The captain tries to ignore the hollow opening up in his chest as his eyes follow him out of the bedroom. It must be the endorphins wearing off.


	4. Chapter 4

Kirk stares straight ahead, chin held high as he makes his way down the corridor. Solid footsteps come from either side of him, and he resists the urge to turn to Adm. Spock. The aching hollow in his chest grows more intense with each step. His lungs constrict painfully, and his heart hangs low in his stomach.

When they reach the transporter room, the admiral will return to his own universe, the channel will close behind him, and all will be as it was-- as it should be.

So why does it feel like a death march?

The door to the transporter room opens automatically with a soft swoosh, and Kirk forces himself inside, followed by Adm. Spock and Spock. He hates this room. He despises it with everything that he has for what it's about to do. The captain can't even brings his eyes up to the admiral when the Vulcan turns to him.

"Captain," Adm. Spock says.

Kirk glances up briefly before quickly looking away. Why is he behaving like this? Why is this hollow feeling now spreading through his body, consuming him entirely? He swallows against the lump forming in his throat.

"Jim," comes the low rumble of the admiral's voice, soft and comforting, but it only makes the lump ache more.

Adm. Spock brings his fingers under his chin and gently tilts it up. His dark eyes shimmer down at him, warm and deep. He continues to gaze at him, and a long silence stretches between them. He looks over his face as if committing it to memory. Finally, his lips part and he says:

"9 minutes and 48 seconds before the channel closes, Captain."

Kirk swallows again, his throat bobbing with the action, his eyes burning. He doesn't trust what may come out of his mouth at the moment, so he gives a slight nod.

The admiral then leans down and gently presses his lips to his. It's much more gentle than anything he's given before, yet Kirk feels he might crumble from it. When he pulls away, he gives him a small smile. His eyes shimmer brighter than before.

"Thank you, Captain...for everything."

He turns to Spock, who stands next to the captain, and reaches up to cup his cheek. Despite his normally stoic composure, he leans into the warm touch.

"And thank you, Mr. Spock," he says.

Adm. Spock leans in for a soft kiss, then brings his mouth against his ear.

"Take care of him, Spock..." he whispers just under his breath. "...for the both of us."

He leans back to meet his eyes. Spock's jaw clenches briefly before he answers.

"Yes, sir."

The admiral grins, his gaze brimming with affection.

"Good boy."

He turns back to the captain and cups his cheek with his other hand, gently stroking his cheekbone with his thumb.

Kirk feels as if his chest is torn open when the Vulcan's hand leaves his face, and he makes his way onto the transporter platform.

Draped in his blood red cloak and his silky dark hair pulled back into an immaculate knot, he looks every bit the formidable admiral as he did when he arrived. But something is different now...his eyes seem...softer.

"Wait," the captain's voice sounds odd coming from his tight throat.

Adm. Spock arches an eyebrow as he climbs the steps up to him. He raises his hand, fingers closed around something. He opens them to reveal a small gold pendant on a thin gold chain.

"An ankh; from the ancient Egyptians of Earth, it symbolizes everlasting life," Kirk tells him, staring down at it. "It was a gift from my mother when I became captain of the Enterprise...she told me it would keep me safe..."

He takes the admiral's hand and places it in his palm.

"I want you to have it."

Kirk wraps both hands around his. He stares down at them. Behind his mostly composed mask his control is rapidly deteriorating. He's screaming in his head-- Don't go!

"I must, Jim," Adm. Spock murmurs. "The needs of the many outweigh the needs of the few...or the one."

Kirk glances up at him, eyes wide. He bites hard at his lip as his vision begins to blur.

"I wish we had more time," he whispers, his voice shaking.

Adm. Spock raises the captain's hands to kiss his knuckles. His mouth rests there for a long moment, breathing deeply, eyes closed. He then lifts his head with a nearly invisible tremble of his lip.

"Perhaps in another life, _ashayam_."

The admiral gives his hand one last kiss before pulling away and taking his place on the transporter platform. He glances at Spock behind the console. The necklace clutched in one hand, he raises the other with fingers parted into the Ta'al.

"Live long and prosper, _ashal-veh_."

Spock mirrors his gesture and replies steadily:

"Peace and long life, Admiral."

The admiral grins at him, though it doesn't quite reach his eyes, and lowers his hand. He turns his gaze to the captain.

"Energize," he orders firmly, not taking his eyes off Kirk.

The musical hum of the transporter fills the room, and he begins to shimmer. He smiles warmly at the captain as he slowly fades.

"In another life, Captain."

And he's gone. The hum disappears only to be replaced by piercing silence. Kirk releases the air from his lungs he hadn't realized he was holding and sucks in another breath.

"Spock...what did we just do?" his voice is barely a whisper.

"What we had to, Jim."

Two fingers curl around his index and middle finger as Spock joins him at his side.

"Then why does it hurt so much?" he gasps through a sob.

The fingers around his squeeze gently.

"I do not know, Jim..." he answers softly, unable to hide the quiver in his own words.

Kirk swings his arms around the Vulcan's torso, clutching him tight against him as the last of his control collapses. His tears soak into the blue uniform shirt twisted in his hands, and Spock wraps his arms around him, holding him tightly as his body quakes and his heart is ripped apart.

 

 —•—•—•—•—•—•—•—•—•—•—

 

Adm. Spock slowly feels his consciousness returning to his body. He spots a young blond man coming closer to the platform as his mind stops spinning.

"Welcome back, Admiral," the man greets him. "If you'll pardon my forwardness, sir, what is the word from the other side?"

The admiral glances at him briefly before making his decent down the steps.

"We will not have their assistance," he replies firmly, his cloak flowing behind him like a stream of blood.

The other man pauses, any glimmer of hope disappearing from his eyes.

"They will not help us?"

Adm. Spock whirls around to him.

"The channel is too unstable, Mr. Kyle. It is still unclear how we managed to open it in the first place," he snaps. "If they traveled through and the channel closed, they could never return to their own universe. I could never ask them to take that risk."

Kyle straightens his posture and nods solemnly.

"Yes, sir."

Adm. Spock ignores the painful twist in his chest and squeezes the necklace clutched in his hand. 

"Any answer from the Klingons or the Romulans?" he asks.

Kyle's shoulders sag noticeably.

"Both have returned with a rejection to our proposal for an alliance, sir. They do not trust your intentions due to the fact that you were once one of the best officers in the Empire," he replies sadly. "Though the Klingons were generous enough to equip the Enterprise with a cloaking device to aid in the fight."

The admiral forces a huff out through his nose. 

"We are down to 52 ships, sir; we cannot make an attack on Empire headquarters without them," Kyle adds.

"I know, Mr. Kyle."

There's a long pause before the admiral starts toward the door.

"Mr. Kyle, have Commander Uhura meet me in the briefing room. And notify the bridge to change course for the Beta Quadrant."

"The Beta Quadrant, sir?" Kyle asks, shocked. "That's right into the heart of the Empire's military operations."

"Precisely, Mr. Kyle," the admiral replies. "Have Uhura meet me in the briefing room."

And he walks out the door.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ashayam: beloved
> 
> ashal-veh: darling
> 
>  
> 
> Also, I feel I didn't make it totally clear what is happening in the Mirror universe at the end, but basically, Adm. Spock lied to Kirk and Spock about the rebellion. It is not going well for them at all. He didn't lie in a manipulative or evil way, though; it was more like he was seeing his beloved captain one last time and couldn't face him only to tell him that he failed. Anyway, hope that clears that up! 
> 
> I hope you're enjoying it so far! More to come! Feel free to leave comments! I'd love to know what you think!


	5. Chapter 5

"Now entering the Beta Quadrant, sir."

"Thank you, Mr. Stiles," Adm. Spock replies, watching the viewing screen closely from his captain's chair.

His forefinger rests against his lips, eyebrows furrowed, as the cloaked ship slips by the first line of defense of the Empire's largest star base in the quadrant, undetected.

"Approach star base at warp factor two," the admiral orders as they pass the second line.

"Yes, sir."

A small silver spot in the distance shows up on the viewing screen. The bridge hushes as it nears, then becomes completely silent, save the background hum of the sensors and scanners, as if the very disturbance of an exhale would betray their position.

The silver spot grows until the finer details of a massive, floating star base fill the screen-- bringing it within phaser range. Smaller ships mill restlessly around it like an active beehive.

"Impulse power, Mr. Stiles."

"Slowing to impulse power, sir."

"Admiral, now that we are here, what is our course of action?" Uhura asks, coming to stand at his side.

Adm. Spock glances up at her briefly before rising up out of his seat.

"Commander Uhura, come with me," he says firmly. "Mr. Scott, you have the bridge."

"Aye, Admiral," replies his chief engineer, taking his place in his chair.

The admiral and Uhura ride the turbo lift down and make their way to the hanger deck. To her credit, Uhura doesn't say a word despite the confusion exuding from her.

The door slides open, and they step into the wide open deck with a large crescent-shaped, forward swept wing spacecraft with a small cockpit nestled in the center. The craft had been designed by Mr. Scott, who also oversaw its construction only a few months after the beginning of the war. With both shuttlecraft taken, the Enterprise needed something stealthier and more maneuverable for scouting missions.

Adm. Spock turns to Uhura and pauses. He gazes at her for a moment, his resolve for what he must do battling against the acute pain welling up in his stomach. He glances down at the emblem on his chest. His fingers curl around it and remove it from his uniform. He moves forward, hand outstretched to Uhura. Her eyes widen, and she jumps back abruptly.

"What are you doing?" she inquires hastily, staring warily at his hand.

Adm. Spock sighs and drops his arms to his sides. He should have known better than to think it would be that easy.

"I'm taking the Harpy, Uhura," he says bluntly. "And I'm leaving you as captain of the Enterprise...and admiral of the rebellion fleet."

Uhura's eyes widen even more, and her lips part in disbelief. The admiral continues.

"You will take the Enterprise from here at warp factor eight. It will take you out of cloak, but you will have a considerable head start before the other ships catch on. The Empire continues to pursue the Enterprise so ferociously because I am onboard... so I will use the Harpy to clear your way. It is a small vessel, but you have seen it can have a painful sting when used correctly. I've also had it equipped with a photon bomb powerful enough to take out a starship...I can buy you enough time to leave the quadrant."

Not a word, not even a sound, comes from his commander. The air grows thick with the tension building up within her. Her eyebrows then stitch together, and her eyes flare with anger.

"You can't ask me to do this!" she snaps. "You can't ask me to leave you here!"

"I'm not asking, Uhura," the admiral replies calmly, his dark eyes locked on her. "That's an order."

As quickly as the fire flared, it dissipates, and Uhura stares up at him helplessly. She takes his hand between both of hers.

"Please don't do this," she whispers, gripping his hand tightly.

An intense pain slices through his chest, twisting in his stomach at the sound of her broken voice. Over the passed two years, and possibly even longer, his instinct had always been to protect her, to teach her, and prepare her for a moment such as this. However, now that it has arrived, he cannot ignore the resistance roiling in his blood. It doesn't matter, however, not anymore. This is what needs to happen for the rebellion's sake-- and hers.

"Do you remember what I used to say to you when you first joined the Enterprise?" he asks gently.

She glances away momentarily as she searches her memory for the answer. Her face hardens when she finds it.

"Terror must be maintained or the Empire is doomed," she states harshly.

The admiral gives her a small smile.

"Yes...and that means that love, compassion, hope, and courage are our greatest weapons against it..."

Uhura's bottom lip begins to quiver.

"And you," Adm. Spock says softly, cupping her cheek. "You shine so brightly with all of them, Nyota...I have nothing left to offer this rebellion. I had my chance, and I failed--"

Uhura opens her mouth to say something, but the admiral stops her with a raised hand.

"If there is anyone capable of leading this universe into a new future, Nyota, it's you."

With his other hand, he places his emblem in her palm. Tears threaten her eyes as her fingers close around it.

"Head to the Delta quadrant," Adm. Spock tells her. "That is where the Intrepid was last stationed. Broadcast a signal pattern with three clicks at a time-- and three clicks only-- over Frequency 7. My father is assigned as her captain. He will understand the signal."

"The Intrepid, sir? That starship hasn't been seen for months; how do you know it's still out there?"

"I don't," the admiral answers. "But if she is, there are over four hundred Vulcans aboard. With them, you can proceed to Vulcan."

"Vulcan? That is Empire-occupied territory, sir," Uhura says.

The admiral nods.

"Yes, and the Empire has enslaved my people for centuries now. With my father, you can convince them to rebel, to fight," he says firmly. "Although you may not need to do much convincing. Vulcans despise being controlled...and we tend to hold bitter grudges."

Adm. Spock's mouth pulls into a smile, and Uhura returns it will a small one of her own. She takes a moment to look down at the emblem still clutched in her hand. She grips it tight and then lunges forward, throwing her arms around his torso.

"I'll make you proud, sir," she promises against his chest, her voice shaking slightly.

The admiral wraps his arms around her shoulders and swallows against the aching lump in his throat. He kisses the top of her head.

"You already have," he murmurs into her hair.

Uhura squeezes him tightly. After a silent moment, Adm. Spock pulls away, his hands still resting on her shoulders, and grins brightly as a tear falls down his face. He wipes at the tears spilling over Uhura's cheeks with his thumb.

"Give them hell, Nyota."

She gives him a firm nod. He then turns and walks to the spacecraft behind him. A ramp descends automatically as he approaches, and he climbs inside.

The ramp closes, and he crawls on his hands and knees up to the cockpit. The entire dome on top is made of transparent aluminum, allowing him actual visual of his surroundings. He lowers down onto his stomach and slips his arms into the slots where the craft controls and weapons triggers are located. Upon the pressure of his weight, straps wrap securely around his limbs and torso, locking him in place. He flips a switch and thle craft roars to life; the screen in front of his face lights up with current systems status. The first of its kind, the craft is truly a work of art. It is a great disappointment that it must perish with him.

The hanger deck opens before him into the vast expanse of space. The star base floats like a celestial body of its own, massive and terrifying. He turns his head to Uhura, who stands in the operations room adjacent to the hanger deck. The tears are beginning to dry on her cheeks, and her eyes are hard like stone. Warmth swells in his side where his heart thumps against his rib cage. She raises her hand solemnly in the Ta'al. His arms locked in, he gives her a smile and a wink in return.

He's then ejected out of the ship.

The alarms on his screen begin blaring almost immediately as the star base defense sensors locate the Harpy. The anti-spacecraft weapons move into position to strike, but the admiral presses down on the pedal at his right foot, blasting farther away from the cloaked Enterprise and thwarting the weapons' attempt to lock onto him.

Adm. Spock breathes in deeply as he circles the star base, intent to keep moving out of weapons range. A hoard of smaller attack vessels spill forth from the base, and he dives toward them head-on. He barely squeezes the mechanism in his hand, and a barrage of concentrated fusion plasma blasts rain down on the oncoming cavalry. Many of the ships erupt in brief, intense flashes of light similar to a bolt of lightning. Debris shoots out at high velocity from the destroyed crafts, taking down more in the process.

Screams of pain as fleeting as the explosions sear through the admiral's mind. He reinforces his mental shields against them and ignores the suffering pounding in his heart from their deaths.

His weapons lock on to a larger craft, and he squeezes again, nailing the vessel in the side near where the fuel tank is located, and it ruptures into a burst of light and shards of debris.

Adm. Spock then notices the ships veering off to the side away from him. He turns his head in time to see the uncloaked Enterprise swallowed up in the distance as it jolts forward at warp speed, leaving the tailing ships far behind and completely bewildered. He manages to shoot down a few more before his vessel comes to a grinding halt, nearly knocking the air from his lungs. Overhead, the ISS Constitution comes into view, looming over the tiny Harpy.

A notification sounds inside the cockpit of the starship's hailing frequency, and reluctantly, the admiral answers. An image flickers onto the screen before him, and his stomach gives a sickening heave.

"Oh, my! What do we have here?" Sulu grins at him, the deep scar on the side of his face wrinkling. "Admiral Spock himself! After all these months of searching and you deliver yourself right to my feet! All you are missing is a pretty bow!"

The admiral's eyes narrow.

"Where is Commodore Wesley?" he asks gruffly.

Sulu makes a show of plucking something from his uniform and flicking it away.

"Commodore Wesley has been...indisposed for quite sometime, Admiral," he sighs. "I'm the captain of this ship now."

"Of course you are."

Sulu sits up straighter in his captain's chair with a dark smirk.

"I take it your crew has finally come to their senses and marooned you here," he teases. "And what in the universe are you piloting?"

"I do not have the patience for small talk, Mr. Sulu," Adm. Spock says steadily. "You have already kept me alive longer than what is demanded of Empire procedure."

Sulu's eyes sparkle devilishly.

"Actually, Admiral, the Empire seems to think that you are worth much more still kicking and screaming than you are dead, you know, considering you are the one who started this whole mess," he informs him. "You have knowledge of the rebellion forces that the Empire could put to great use."

The admiral clenches his jaw and fights the bitter taste bubbling up his throat.

"Then why haven't you brought me aboard, Mr. Sulu?"

The man taps his forefinger against his lips a few times before answering.

"Well, somehow your tin can won't allow us to beam you aboard, so I thought I'd make you an offer, Admiral."

Adm. Spock huffs with a smirk.

"I'll tell you what, if you come aboard peacefully and cooperate," Sulu continues. "I'll see if I can get your agoniser booth time reduced. I could probably even swing for a position for you on my ship as science officer-- for old times' sake."

" _Ponfo_ _mirann_ ," Adm. Spock rumbles darkly.

Sulu gives a dramatic sigh.

"Now, Admiral, you know I do not understand Vulcan," he says. "But I'm going to assume that was rather rude."

"You assume correctly, Mr. Sulu."

"You always were such a tease," Sulu chuckles. "But you're coming with me whether you cooperate or not."

"Careful, Mr. Sulu; though this vessel is small, I have a device on board with enough power to destroy anything within 200,000 kilometers."

Sulu laughs again.

"Nice try, Admiral, but we both know very well that is the same lie used by the late Captain Kirk with that Balok fool," he says. "You're bluffing."

"Am I, Mr. Sulu? It's been a long time since you've been on the Enterprise," Adm. Spock replies calmly.

A smile tugs at his lips when the smirk falters and falls from Sulu's face. He takes a moment to consider the admiral's statement, then raises his eyes to him, his mouth set in a firm line.

"It's a risk I'll have to take," he retorts. "You never were very good at poker."

Adm. Spock grins at him.

"We'll see, Mr. Sulu."

Sulu's upper lip twitches into a snarl before he raises his fist and drops it down on the control panel on his captain's chair, breaking their visual contact. The Harpy lurches as the tractor beam slowly draws it closer to the starship. Fool. Even if Sulu did manage to gain control of the Constitution, he obviously lacked the acumen to maintain it.

The admiral flips a switch and, with a soft whir, the photon bomb resting beneath the cockpit is armed. The hanger deck of the starship opens as his vessel nears, and he draws in a deep breath, his hand hovering over the detonator button. This is it. After waiting for so long, the moment is finally here.

The hanger deck envelopes his craft, and the door closes solidly behind. Empire troops are already surrounding him.

Adm. Spock closes his eyes, focusing on the weight of the gold pendent pressing against his chest.

"I'm sorry, Jim."

He pushes the button.

A blinding light explodes like a supernova, searing his vision from behind closed eyelids, and he's violently ripped from the vessel. He rolls and tumbles, feet over head and back again. His body feels as if it's being pulled and torn every which way then mashed back together in different configurations. His mind fills with nothing and everything all at once, memories flickering passed like stars at warp speed,and something similar to thunder roars in his ears, threatening to rupture his eardrums.

Suddenly, everything goes still. The light, the sound, the movement-- all of it disappears almost as quickly as it arrived. Is this it? Is this death? It is...peaceful, eerily so. It is certainly more tranquil than anything he expected, than anything he deserved in the afterlife with the things he has done.

Then, from out of the blackness and calm, comes a sound that shatters him completely--

 

"Spock?"

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ponfo mirann = go to hell
> 
> Also, the Harpy is basically a BSG Cylon Raider:  
> 


	6. Chapter 6

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm sorry for the longer wait on this chapter! 
> 
> Please enjoy!

He must be dead. This is definitive proof. There is no other explanation for hearing that voice again.

"Spock?"

A short sob escapes Adm. Spock's lips, and he pulls in a breath. Wait. He's…breathing.

"Perhaps grant him a moment, _ashayam_ ; he has had quite a shock."

That is his own voice. Inside his mind? No- outside. How? The admiral's mind swims with swirling thoughts until he's dizzy.

"You can open your eyes, Admiral," his voice continues.

He obeys.

Golden eyes are what he sees first, wide and swirling with a multitude of emotions he couldn’t even begin to identify. They shimmer in the low light of the transporter room. The transporter room? Adm. Spock’s eyebrows stitch together.

“Jim?” he whispers.

Kirk’s bottom lip quivers slightly before he pulls them both into a soft smile. The admiral’s gaze flickers to Spock standing at his side.

“Spock?”

The Vulcan gives him a stoic nod, though his dark eyes betray the excitement and joy bubbling just beneath the surface.

“Are you alright, Spock? Are you injured in anyway?” Kirk asks Adm. Spock, taking a small step forward.

“No,” he replies after taking a quick catalog of his person; he is perfectly intact.

But he shouldn’t be. He detonated the photon bomb aboard the Harpy. Nothing would have survived within a 50,000 kilometer radius, and he was right at the heart of the explosion. Unless he never had the chance to—unless the Constitution had somehow removed him from his ship before he set off the device and this was all some sort of illusion to extract information.

“Where is Captain Sulu?” the admiral demands gruffly, ignoring the confusion on Kirk’s face. “How are you doing this? A mind-sifter? A probe? Or has the Empire finally perfected its holographic simulator? If so, I commend you on your attention to detail.”

The captain ascends another step on the transporter platform, reaching out to him as panic seeps into his mind.

“Spock, no, you haven’t been captured,” he says quickly. “This is—”

With a flash of silver, Adm. Spock has his dagger at Kirk’s throat. Spock starts, but the captain stops him with a slight gesture of his hand.

“You may do what you will with me, but I will not yield to the Empire…never again,” the admiral growls, barely contained rage burning in his dark eyes. “I have nothing left to lose.”

His voice cracks on the last word, and he watches as Kirk’s eyes begin to fill with moisture. A tense moment passes, then the captain gently touches his wrist with his fingertips.

“Spock,” he murmurs, trailing up his hand. “I’m real…Spock is real…”

The admiral glances down, feeling the flow of reassurance flood into him through the point of contact. His fingers loosen around the silver dagger.

“This is all real,” Kirk continues as Adm. Spock lowers his weapon, stepping closer until they are only inches away. “You are here with us…”

The admiral swallows against the building lump in his throat, and his dagger falls with a clang to the floor.

“How—”

“We can explain later; you must be in need of rest,” Kirk says, but Adm. Spock shakes his head.

“No, please…I need answers, Jim.”

Kirk hesitates briefly, searching his eyes before turning and gently leading the admiral down the transporter steps to Spock standing quietly behind them.

“Spock, would you please explain?”

Spock nods.

“As I am sure you have gathered now, you are indeed back in this universe with the two of us, Admiral,” the Vulcan starts. “Upon your departure, we noticed readings of a trace or a trail of some sort on our sensors. It was not much at the time, but Jim employed what he calls a hunch. It has been 5 months, 2 weeks, and 6 days since your departure, and during that time, Jim and I were able to construct a device using antimatter and dilithium crystals to open and stabilize the channel between our universes.”

“You showed us where to look, and we built the key,” Kirk adds with a smile.

“Precisely.”

Adm. Spock glances back and forth between to the two of them, not sure what to say. The fact they built a device capable of inter-universal travel is astonishing in itself, but that they constructed it in such a short amount of time…it is almost unbelievable.

“Fascinating,” the admiral breathes.

“Jim is extremely intelligent, Admiral, and you seem to forget,” Spock’s lips twitch with a hidden smile. “…that we are Vulcan.”

Adm. Spock smirks at him.

“Indeed.”

The smile falls from his face, however, when thoughts of the revolution, the Enterprise, and Uhura fill his mind.

“Not that I am ungrateful, but why did you bring me here?” he says rapidly. “I must return; I have much work to do in my own universe.”

Kirk takes his hand in his, ceasing his words, and his stress, immediately.

“Come; we will show it to you and perhaps you will understand.”

They leave the transporter room and make their way down empty corridors to the briefing room. A small metallic box sits peacefully on the table.

“This is it?” the admiral asks, gesturing at the box, and Spock nods. “I thought it would be…bigger.”

They sit at the table around the device, and Kirk touches the small sensor on its top. It begins to hum, and a vibrant blue glow emanates from the cracks btween the panels. A thin strand of light bursts forth from the top and fans out, revealing a clear picture of the ISS Enterprise floating in space. Adm. Spock’s lips part in surprise.

“We found once a stable channel between our universes had been established, we had the ability not only to observe your universe in the present, but during any point we wished along your timeline,” Spock explains casually. “We could also observe any potential effects of any changes to that timeline.”

The admiral glances up at him, eyebrow arched.

“The war?”

Spock caresses the top of the box, swiping to one side, and a series of images flicker before them. Vulcan warriors fighting against their captors -- A fleet of Klingon and Romulan ships alongside the Enterprise -- An intense battle at Empire headquarters -- Celebrations throughout the galaxy as the remaining Empire troops are driven out. -- A statue of him carved from marble in front of the Empire capital building.

Adm. Spock’s gives a choked off laugh through the tight ache in his throat when Uhura stands next to his father on the steps of the fallen Empire headquarters draped in his cloak. The garment had been tailored a bit, but her small frame still seemed to drown in the multitude of fur and velvet. He watches as she approaches the statue and places his insignia at his feet.

They had won.

Adm. Spock covers his mouth with his hand as a tear slips through his control and trails down his cheek.

They had _won_.

“Your photon bomb destroyed the Constitution and took out half of the star base,” Kirk says after a long pause. “The attack bought Uhura enough time to do as you instructed. She instigated a successful rebellion on your home world of Vulcan after tracking down your father. The Klingons and Romulans joined soon after word of your sacrifice had spread throughout the galaxy.”

Another tears spills over the admiral’s face.

“Your death was the turning point of the revolution, Spock. No matter how we changed it, it was the only way to overthrow the Empire,” Kirk continues, and then swallows. “You needed to die…and to stay that way…in order for the rebellion to triumph.”

“But I am not dead.”

“For all intents and purposes, you are in your universe,” Spock replies. “Nothing could have survived in such close proximity to the blast of the photon bomb.”

“We had one shot,” Kirk interjects, his voice as far away as his gaze. “We combed through every possible moment until we found it…the one where we could bring you here without disrupting the timeline.”

Adm. Spock looks at him and notices for the first time the dark circles staining the skin under the captain’s eyes, matching those under Spock’s. He stares at them.

“Why would you do this?”

Kirk glances at him, his momentary trance broken.

“Because, Spock, sometimes…the needs of the one,” his eyes flicker to Spock briefly with a smile. “Or the two…outweigh the needs of the many.”

The admiral casts his gaze down, and his mouth pulls into a wide grin.

“You both constructed a device that will possibly be the most astounding technological advancement for centuries in mere months…just to bring me back?” he says softly before something mischievous flashes in his eyes. “I was that good?”

“Better,” Spock answers bluntly.

Both Kirk and Adm. Spock turn to him in surprise, then to each other as a green flush spreads over the admiral’s cheeks. The captain rises from his chair and hooks his two fingers with Spock’s for a brief moment before walking around the table.

“We bargained with Starfleet command…we are turning over the device for research purposes in exchange for your presence in our universe. Of course, that makes you a free man here, Spock; free to do as you please,” he tells him.

Adm. Spock stands and takes a step closer to the captain until he can feel the coolness of the human’s body through his uniform.

“What would you have me do, Captain?” he murmurs, his eyes hooded.

Kirk swallows nervously, and the admiral catches him stealing a quick glimpse of his lips.

“Well, actually, there is a new position opening up on the Enterprise, Spock,” he says. “In the sciences division, no less.”

“And that is?”

“Ship’s Counselor.”

The admiral chuckles.

“You must be joking.”

“Not even a little bit,” Kirk counters firmly. “You lead a revolution that toppled a brutal and savage Empire. You mentored and molded Uhura as your successor to carry out your legacy. You know how people think, Spock, and not just humans. You know what drives them and why. You are also very talented at coming up with solutions. Coupled with your penchant for logic, I think you would make quite an effective counselor.”

Adm. Spock stares at him, all amusement gone, his dark eyes delving in deep as if searching for his soul.

“And I am speaking for both Spock and myself when I say that we would…greatly welcome your presence on the ship,” the captain adds softly.

“Unquestionably,” Spock chimes in.

The admiral grins at him, then turns back to Kirk.

“I would be honored to join your crew, Captain.”

A bright smile splits across the captain’s face like the sun peaking out from thunderclouds, his golden eyes shimmering.

“Welcome aboard, Counselor.”

  
***

  
Csr. Spock combs his fingers back through his hair, smoothing the long, wet locks away from his face. He leans his hands against the wall as the soft hum of the sonic shower soothes his muscles. He groans quietly as they relax under the vibrations. He hadn’t realized how badly he needed this. He stays in a few minutes longer than necessary, but eventually manages to tear himself away. He pats his hair gently with a towel, and then wraps it around his waist before exiting the bathroom. He freezes.

Kirk and Spock kneel quietly in the center of the captain’s quarters, heads bowed and the lights down low. They’re completely bare except for small sections of fabric draped around their hips. The scent of lavender and frankincense fills the room, and a bronze bowl of oil sits between them at their knees. There is something familiar about this scene, and the counselor tries to grasp at the vague cloud in his mind. Spock rises to his feet and walks to him like living silk. Without a word, the Vulcan takes his hand and brings him closer to the captain.

Csr. Spock’s breathing quickens when Kirk brings his face up to him, his skin glowing in the dim light. He turns to the bowl at his side and dips into the oil. The counselor’s breath hitches in his throat when he brings his cool, coated fingers to his ankle.

The captain massages into the sensitive skin there, kneading the muscles and the bone gently and working his way up his calf, dipping his hand back in the oil as necessary. Csr. Spock startles when he feels a slick warm touch at his shoulders. He turns to look at Spock rubbing oil across his flesh.

A subtle flow of emotion seeps into his blood and tickles at his mind. He moans low in his throat when Spock’s strong fingers press into his trapezius muscles. Below, Kirk slowly massages at his other leg, giving it the same attention as the other as he makes his way up. He looks up at the counselor through his lashes when his hands meet the edge of the towel. He takes the hem and gently tugs, pulling it from Csr. Spock’s loose grip, and lets it fall to the floor in a crumpled heap.

Kirk glances down at his exposed member slowly growing with each passing moment. His fingers rub into his quadriceps, and he leans forward to follow their trails with his lips. The counselor’s heart thunders against his side, and he releases his breath in a ragged exhale when Spock’s hand slides over it. The Vulcan kisses at his shoulder as he massages him, making long, firm paths from his back to his sides, and back again. Csr. Spock leans his head to the side when Spock gently pulls his hair away from his neck. He grazes the sensitive area with his lips, his breath hot against his skin.

The counselor gasps and weaves his hands through Kirk’s caramel locks when the captain reaches the crease of his leg and hip with his mouth. He sucks and nips at it as the fingers tighten in his hair; his member fully erect now and seeping impatiently with violet-tinted fluid next to Kirk’s face as he purposely neglects it. Spock’s hands travel down, pressing into his muscles as they go, and take hold of the firm, round globes of his ass. He massages the fleshy mounds as he continues to lave at his neck, his teeth grazing against the fragile skin.

It’s then that Csr. Spock remembers why this seems so familiar—like déjà vu. The oils, the low lights, Kirk and Spock nearly naked—it’s a Vulcan _triumphus_. He’s only read about it in the history records of his people, never before seen it in practice. In ancient times, before they were enslaved, the ceremony was considered incredibly intimate and was usually reserved for the most revered warriors upon return from war.

Kirk stands as his hands slide up his abdomen, coating him in oil as he does. His fingers tangle in the dark hair on his chest. He pauses when he spots the golden ankh nestled there. A small smile plays at his lips, and he resumes his massage. The counselor gasps when his fingers skate over his nipples hidden beneath. Spock’s hands slide down his arms.

“I don’t deserve this,” Csr. Spock objects breathlessly.

The hands on his body cease their ministrations, and his skin tingles from the loss. He continues:

“You don’t know who I am…what I’ve done…you have never melded with me…I have conquered an empire in one universe; how can you trust that I will not do the same here?” he whispers as Kirk watches him closely, feeling Spock doing the same behind him. “How can you know I will not be your destruction?”

There’s a pause, the only sound is of their breathing.

“I don’t,” Kirk finally answers softly. “I don’t know the things you have done or the things you plan to do, but I don't fear you…isn’t that what trust is?”

Spock’s hand rubs gently at the scar over the counselor’s heart, and Kirk's eyes flicker briefly to him.

"I know him, and you are a part of him as much as he is a part of you. I love you, Spock—in every universe, I love you.”

Csr. Spock swallows against the ache in his throat. Kirk takes a step closer.

"And I've missed you, Spock..."

Spock rests his chin on his shoulder, nuzzling his nose into the counselor's hair.

"As have I, _ashayam_ ," he murmurs against his ear.

The captain then holds out his hand. The counselor takes it and Kirk slowly leads him to the bedroom. 

  
***

  
"Ah! Yes! Hmhn, like that..."

The words spill from Csr. Spock's desperate mouth as the sound of slick bodies moving together fills the room. His dark eyes glassed over and voice slightly raspy, the Vulcan's hands slip over Kirk's chest in the pool of blue and violet fluid coating the captain's torso. His strong thighs squeeze his waist tight as he braces himself against Spock's forceful strokes. Kirk drives his hip upwards, sweat pouring off his skin. He groans loudly as he rubs against the firm ridges of Spock's cock buried in deep alongside him.

"Please- ah! - don't stop!" Csr. Spock cries as they slide together inside him, his pliant hole swallowing them both up with ease.

They had been at this for hours, yet the fire between them only seems to grow stronger with each thrust, each moan, each release... It's like being consumed in flames and diving into cool water all at once, and Kirk can't get enough.

He grips the counselor’s hips tighter, plunging in deeper, encouraged by the moans escaping his throat. The Vulcan squeezes around them, eliciting a dark, rumbling growl from Spock that sends tremors up Kirk's spine. He matches his speed, thrusting in as Spock pulls out.

Csr. Spock's arms tremble as he holds himself in place, helpless, as they move together inside him. He gulps down air before it's knocked out of him again with each thrust. His fingers dig into the captain's chest.

Kirk opens his eyes, not realizing he had been squeezing them shut, when he hears a wince then a deep growl from the counselor. Spock's fingers tangle in the Vulcan's long, silky locks, wrenching his head back by his hair. Csr. Spock whines through his straining throat as he clenches down around them like a vice-grip.

"Fuck _yes!_ " he gasps, arching his back and pushing hard against Spock.

Kirk's hips falter at the sight, his orgasm blooming in his lower belly. He thrusts up harder still, pounding into him at a quickening pace as Spock's ridges grind insistently against his cock. He arches off the bed with a loud cry, burying himself deeper into his wet, sweltering heat as he fills him.  

The movement above Kirk pauses momentarily, and the counselor manages to lift himself off and in between his legs. He grabs the hilt of the plug buried in the captain's ass, placed there hours ago. Kirk moans loudly, and the Vulcan practically purrs as he pulls it out, watching his hole squeeze tight at the loss. Spock growls impatiently behind the counselor, gripping his hips in his long fingers. Csr. Spock glances at him through the corner of his eye with a smirk and tosses the plug to the side. He then hooks his arms under Kirk's knees and lifts them to his chest. The captain whimpers as the head of his cock presses against his entrance, gently at first, until he breaches the relaxed ring of muscle. He pushes in until he engulfs his entire length. Csr. Spock groans low in his throat, his head dropping down.

"Gods, Jim, you feel _divine_ ," he murmurs.

He pulls back before pushing back in again. After a few opening strokes, he pauses and looks over his shoulder.

"Are you ready to fuck me some more, Mr. Spock?" he asks, a teasing smile on his lips.

Without warning, Spock surges forward, pinning him down against Kirk's chest and plunges inside, making the counselor cry out into the captain's shoulder. The Vulcan sets a punishing pace, thrusting hard into his pliant body.

"What kind of monster have you created, Captain?" Csr. Spock pants into Kirk's ear.

The captain smirks against his cheek, and reaches down to grab hold of the round, firm globes of his ass. He spreads them wide, exposing him completely to the rough pounding from the other Vulcan behind him. Spock groans and wraps his hands around Kirk's forearms to use as leverage. He stares down at him as he drives into Csr. Spock, and Kirk grins back up at him, spreading the Vulcan wider. Spock changes his angle slightly, making the counselor yelp.

"Right there, yes, right there!" he pleads desperately as he thrusts erratically into Kirk below him.

The captain grips his ass tight in his hands, biting his bottom lip despite his moans against the onslaught of sensations burning through him so soon after his release.

"Ah!" The captain gasps as Csr. Spock's cock grazes the bundle of nerves nestled inside him, sending an intense spark through his body.

He can already feel another one building within him.

The counselor whimpers against his neck as Spock hits his target again and again at an unrelenting speed.

"Fuck!" he mewls into the captain's skin.

Kirk weaves his fingers into his hair to pull his head up. Csr. Spock gazes at him with lust-blown eyes.

"Are you going to be good and come for Spock and me?" he murmurs darkly, his own hole quivering with his impending release.

"Yes!" Csr. Spock whimpers. "I'm gonna- ah!- fuck, dig it in right there, Mr. Spock!"

The words are barely out of his mouth when his body stiffens, clutching Kirk to him as he bites down on his shoulder. He groans through his teeth as warmth fills the captain deep inside, providing the last small push he needs, and he's toppling over the edge after him. Spock's hands clamp down on his arms, his hips stuttering slightly. He gives a last, strong thrust, and he fills the counselor with a loud cry.

After a moment, Kirk floats back down to his body nestled beneath a pile of spent, panting Vulcans. Csr. Spock winces as Spock pulls out gently, and then he follows suit, collapsing onto the bed where he's not crushing the captain.

"How did I get so lucky?" Kirk asks breathlessly aloud to himself with a dazed smile.

The counselor groans into the mattress next to him before a deep rumble emanates from his chest. Kirk grins wider, recognizing the sound from many nights spent with Spock over the passed few months. As soon as the thought crosses his mind, Spock also begins to purr, his eyes drooping closed. The captain stifles a laugh and instead leans over to kiss the counselor’s shoulder blade.

“It’s good to have you back, Spock.”

  
***

  
Sometime later, Kirk slowly emerges from sleep. He’s pleasantly warm where he’s slotted between two Vulcan bodies. His cheek rests against dark chest hair, and a golden ankh dangles nearby. Spock shifts behind him, squeezing him tighter and pulling Csr. Spock closer with the leg draped over them both. Kirk doesn’t move or even open his eyes. He silently savors the feeling of the two beings he loves the most in any universe surrounding him.

"Spock?" Spock starts quietly, staring down at his fingers caressing Csr. Spock’s arm wrapped around the captain.

The counselor hums his approval, his eyes fluttering closed for a moment.

"That is the first time you have actually called me by name-- well, our name," he says. "It sounds beautiful coming from you."

A light green flush colors Spock’s cheeks, making the counselor smile.

"What is it, _ashal-veh?_ "

A short pause.

"To whom do all the names written on your skin belong?"

Another pause, but longer this time. Kirk waits silently as he senses Csr. Spock searching for the words to say. His heart vibrates against his ear.

"They are the names of everyone I have spared," he replies. "Before the revolution—when I held their lives in my hands."

He glances down at the three lines of script encircling his right bicep.

"I kept them as a reminder of the debt they owed to me. It proved to be very beneficial in our fight against the Empire"

"There are many names, ashayam," Spock says, kissing the ink on the inside of his wrist. "You seem to already have had that rebellious spark within you."

"Yes, but it wasn't enough, not then," Csr. Spock states and glances down at the man tucked in against his side. "He saw something in me...and despite the terrible things he must have known I had committed in that universe...he saw something in me...something good..."

He strokes Kirk’s hair gently with his fingertips like he’s the most precious treasure in the universe.

"He...is beyond anything I have ever been able to comprehend or find words to describe."

Spock nods, playing absently with the counselor’s fingers.  
  
"Agreed. He is rather...perplexing in that way."

"Indeed."

Kirk resists his urge to smile, not wanting to betray the fact he is actually awake and ruin this moment.

“May I ask you another question?” Spock asks, staring up at the ceiling.

“You just did.” Kirk can practically see the smile on the counselor’s face.

Spock’s eyebrows rise slightly in surprise.

“So I have…”

Csr. Spock chuckles, sending a pleasurable shiver down the captain’s spine. He could never get enough of that sound.

“Please ask, _ashal-veh_ ,” he encourages.

“That day you traveled to our universe to be with the captain…why did you ask me to stay?”

Csr. Spock takes a deep breath, making Kirk’s head rise and fall with his chest.

“Truthfully, Spock, I was curious,” he answers. “At the time, I was sure I would not survive for much longer, and I couldn’t resist the opportunity. I also could sense a deeper affection between you and the captain…I did not want to steal away that first experience from you.”

Kirk feels a shift from the counselor as he turns to face Spock. His ears perk up as he continues.

“I am glad I did,” he murmurs and glances down briefly at the captain. "He makes me want to be better…and you, Spock, show me it's possible...and for that...I love you."

Another shift and Kirk is pressed hard against the counselor’s chest as Spock moves to kiss his lips.

“You’re squishing me!” the captain mumbles against his body.

“Hmmm,” Spock hums when they part. “Seems the captain has been awake this whole time.”

Kirk slowly opens his eyes to two sets of dark eyes peering down at him.

“A spy, Mr. Spock?” Csr. Spock feigns a gasp, then lowers his mouth to Kirk’s ear. “You know what happens to spies, Captain? They’re punished.”

Kirk yelps as the counselor dives into his neck, kissing and nipping it relentlessly. The captain laughs desperately and wriggles against his ministrations. Spock arches his eyebrow at the reaction, but soon joins in.

“Ah! Okay! I surrender! I surrender!” Kirk gasps. “I’ll tell you anything you want to know!”

The Vulcans cease their tickling and pull away to look down at him.

“And what do you have to tell us, Captain Kirk?” Spock asks.

Kirk grins up at them.

“I love you,” he breathes happily. “The two pieces of my soul, I love you.”

And they resume their attack of kisses. 


	7. Chapter 7

_Captain’s log Stardate 4073.8_

_It’s been almost three months now since Counselor Spock joined the crew of the Enterprise, and I couldn’t ask for a more extraordinary addition as captain. Within the first month, the counselor was awarded the highest Starfleet psychology certification after earning full marks on the exam, plus some for the few spelling errors he found... I have since seen a considerable difference in morale of my crew and other personnel on the ship. Not only does he possess the  
telepathic abilities of a Vulcan, but he also seems to have strong empathetic abilities as well. Just last week, the counselor facilitated the successful negotiations with the Atredies population on Antares 4, a feat many diplomats and ambassadors before had failed to achieve, yet, somehow he did. I've never seen anything like it. We were even invited to stay for a three day festival taking place on the planet. This new discovery has made first encounters with other life forms go much more...smoothly. Sometimes I wonder if he is actually half Betazoid..._

_In addition, the counselor's experience as leader in the parallel universe has proven to be invaluable when exploring uncharted planets. Landing parties usually consist of myself and Commander Spock, leaving Counselor Spock in control of the bridge while we’re away. His instincts while in command have saved our lives more than once...I have never felt so safe and my ship so secure as when I leave it in his care._

_As I mentioned, it has been only three months, but Counselor Spock has proven time and time again what an asset he is not only to the Enterprise, but also to Starfleet and the Federation. I look forward to seeing more of his capabilities in the future._

Kirk flips a switch on the arm of his captain's chair, and leans back with a sigh.

Three months. It seems like only a few moments and an entire lifetime wrapped into one. So much has changed. He doesn't think he's ever seen Dr. McCoy smile so much, well, that is when he’s not losing to the counselor in their weekly poker games. Surprisingly, Csr. Spock is even developing a good friendship with Sulu despite his experience with his counterpart. He tells him that Sulu is teaching him fencing, which he seems to enjoy immensely. He has also taken a special interest in Uhura, lobbying for her to be assigned more responsibilities whether it be with the landing parties or aboard the ship. She is not unlike the Uhura from his universe, the captain has done what he can to accommodate him with extremely positive results. His favorite devolvement, however, is every now and then when he catches a member of the crew referring to both Commander and Counselor Spock affectionately as “the Spocks”.

Yes, so much has changed. His crewmen have changed. He has changed. Love tends to do that to a person. The door behind him slides open with a soft swoosh.

"Speak of the devil," Kirk mumbles under his breath as Csr. Spock rounds the chair to stand at his side. Dr. McCoy stands at the other.

" _Speak of the devil and he doth appear_ ; an idiom from Earth's 15th century, I believe, to describe the coincidental appearance of the object or person of current discussion," the counselor states casually.

"I see you've been doing your studies on Earth's history, Counselor," Kirk replies with a smirk.

"Of course, Captain; it is an interesting read," Csr. Spock says, smiling.

He then holds out his PADD.

"The psychology reports for the Beta Treavis colony you requested, Captain."

"And their medical reports, as you requested," McCoy also hands over his PADD.

"Thank you..." Kirk's voice trails off as his mind is already focused in the reports in his lap.

He looks up when he notices both Csr. Spock and McCoy are still at his sides.

"Is there anything more, gentlemen?" he asks, looking them over with a wary eye. "What are you two grinning about?"

The counselor pulls his arm from behind his back, holding a small white stick topped with a rounded, light blue wrapper-- a... _lollipop?_ Kirk's eyes widen.

"I don't believe it," he murmurs, taking the sweet. "Where in the galaxy did you find this?"

McCoy's grin widens as he unwraps and pops one in his mouth-- root beer flavored judging by the smell.

"In the three weeks we were stationed at Yorkshire star base, I managed to find a small, hidden vendor in the market that specializes in past and current Terran confections," Csr. Spock says proudly.

"And you bought some? I didn't think Vulcans liked sweets."

"I cannot speak for every Vulcan in this universe, Captain, but I happen to adore sweets. I can only indulge occasionally, however, due to the effects of sucrose on the Vulcan mind."

"Effects on the Vulcan mind?"

Kirk's mouth runs dry as he watches the counselor uncover a vibrant blue lollipop and wrap his lips around the small jewel.

"Similar to alcohol on the human brain," he explains, tucking the sweet against his cheek to speak. "These lollipops would be the equivalent of a glass of wine."

The doctor then turns to distribute to the rest of the crew the remaining candy in his hand.

"What's the occasion?" Kirk asks, unwrapping his and staring at the deep blue orb.

"Does one need an occasion?" Csr. Spock counters.

"Can't you just have something that makes you happy once in awhile for no reason, Jim?" McCoy yells as he hands a cotton candy to Sulu and a cream soda to Chekhov.

Kirk glances up at Csr. Spock with a soft smile.

"I suppose I could," he says quietly and pops the candy in his mouth; the counselor's dark eyes shimmer back at him.

"Blue raspberry? How did you know it's my favorite?"

Csr. Spock arches an eyebrow at him.

"It would seem I made a lucky guess. It was a best seller at the shop," he then leans down next to the captain's ear, something mischievous flickering in his eyes. "But I chose it simply because I enjoy seeing your tongue stained blue."

" _Counselor!_ " Kirk smiles and ducks his head to hide the dark flush burning at his cheeks.

The counselor sneaks a quick kiss on his heated skin before turning to climb the single step up to the science station. The captain watches as he slips two of his fingers around Spock's resting on the console as he peers into the scope. The other Vulcan glances up at the gesture, and something that could almost be mistaken for a smile twitches at the corner of his lips. He straightens and the counselor holds out another blue lollipop after unwrapping it for him. Spock arches an eyebrow at the sweet, and instead of taking it from him, he opens his mouth. Kirk stifles a laugh at the startled expression on the counselor's face, which quickly darkens as he slips the lollipop passed Spock's parted lips. There's a brief tense moment before Spock turns back to his station and starts explaining the sensor readouts to the counselor. Kirk gazes at them together at the station, not caring about the large, goofy grin he feels spreading across his face.

"Bunch of saps," McCoy teases around his lollipop. "You usually have a yeoman bring reports to you from Sickbay, you know."

"Yeah," the captain answers, not taking his eyes from the two Vulcans. "But I enjoy your visits to the bridge."

McCoy follows his line of sight.

" _My_ visits, sure..."

They watch as Csr. Spock points at the map on the screen above the science station and turns to Spock, who nods in answer to his question. The counselor gives him a bright smile, and despite his incredible control, Spock mirrors it with a small one of his own.

"I don't think I've ever seen you like this, Jim," McCoy says, glancing at Kirk's large grin.

"Like what, Bones?"

"So at peace, so... _happy_."

The captain finally manages to tear his gaze away and turns to the doctor.

"I am happy, Bones," he tells him. "Perhaps truly for the first time in my life... For whatever reason, the universe has given me not one, but two...soulmates..."

The doctor snorts.

"And I thought this sucker was cloying," he grumbles, spinning the lollipop in his mouth.

Kirk chuckles and gives McCoy a soft swat in the stomach with the back of his hand.

"Are you three still up for poker on Friday night?" McCoy asks.

"Of course."

He then turns his attention back to the Vulcans at the science station, both of whom have ceased their discussion to return his gaze. Spock's eyes glimmer in the light of the bridge, only the corner of his mouth twitching with the threat of a smile while Csr. Spock's lips pull up into a playful smirk, and he gives him a quick wink. The captain shakes his head.

The Spocks... _his_ Spocks...so different, yet so similar-- two sides of the same coin. Both beautiful and absolutely astounding in their own way, he feels he may need to pinch himself to ensure he's not dreaming. And a whole lifetime together still ahead of them to explore, to learn, to love...

No, he's never been this happy.

 

***

 

Kirk lifts his knight to the second level of the chessboard.

"If that is your decision, I'll have you checkmated within two moves," Spock says from the large arm chair across from his own, sitting only in his black boxer briefs.

The captain glances over the chessboard.

"We'll see."

The Vulcan takes out his knight with his own.

"Check," he sighs and sets the piece on the small, round table between them.

The soft lamplight glistens on the polished surface as Kirk studies the layout, plotting his next move. Sweat begins to bead beneath the red satin robe wrapped around his body. He finally moves his bishop.

"And once again," Spock moves his rook. "Check."

Kirk suppresses his grin. He looks over the board, mostly for show, before making his move.

"Checkmate."

He nearly laughs when Spock's eyebrows scrunch together, his dark eyes searching and processing the sequence. He then leans back in his chair.

"Your illogical approach to chess does have its advantages on occasion, Jim," Kirk swears he can hear a slight hint of irritation.

"I prefer to call it inspired," he teases.

Despite himself, Spock gives him a small smile.

"As you wish, _ashayam_. At any rate, the game is yours."

Spock begins resetting the pieces as Kirk sits back in his chair and looks around the room.

His quarters are considerably larger- and warmer- now after the remodel that kept the Enterprise at the Yorkshire star base for three weeks. Spock had moved in with him shortly after Csr. Spock left for the parallel universe, and Kirk had insisted the counselor also move in when he returned. The most pressing issue was space.

Approval from Starfleet for the expansion of his quarters went through rather smoothly. It turns out the research being conducted on the interuniversal device he and Spock constructed has proven to be incredibly enlightening, causing Starfleet command to practically trip over themselves to repay them for their work. They had even begged them to return to Earth to teach at the academy. They both refused, however. Teaching the next generation of cadets is a noble and rewarding career, but it isn't where they belonged. They belonged on the Enterprise, together, among the stars.

In addition to the remodel of his quarters, Kirk also insisted on building out a large bed with enough room for a grown man and two fully fledged Vulcans because there is something damn near spiritual about waking up most mornings to soft kisses on his neck and the scratch of a beard between his thighs.

Kirk feels his cheeks burn even hotter in the increased temperature of his quarters at the thought. He glances over at Csr. Spock silently reading from his PADD while wrapped in a large, fluffy blanket on the sofa across the room. Two large windows slanting above him let in the glow of the billions of stars outside the ship.

"When are you going to play the winner, Spock?" he calls to him. "Which, as of now, is me."

Spock shoots him a particularly dark glance, and Kirk returns it with a sweet smile.

"I would love to, Jim," the counselor answers, setting his PADD on his lap. "But I don't know how to play."

Spock's hand freezes midair, and Kirk's jaw hangs loose in surprise. Never before did he think it possible for a Spock to utter those words in this context. He and Spock stare at each other, eyes wide.

"Don't know how to play?" Kirk repeats as if it were a foreign language.

After another moment, he slaps his hand against the arm of his plush chair.

"Spock, I'm afraid we have been incredibly rude and inconsiderate for which we have no excuse," the captain proclaims. "Please come over at once and we will teach you how to play."

Csr. Spock sets his PADD down on the wooden coffee table in front of the sofa and rises to his feet, still wrapped in the blanket. Spock reaches out a hand to him as he walks over, and the counselor slides behind him in the large armchair. He pulls the blanket around them both and encircles his arms around Spock's bare torso. His chin rests on Spock's shoulder as he gazes at the captain, dark eyes hooded. His lips are still stained a light shade of blue from the lollipop earlier that day. Kirk can't help but think he looks like a large jungle cat draped around Spock like that. He shifts at the interested twinge in his lap.

The captain launches into the basic structure and goal of the game, starting by explaining each piece, their function, and their allowable moves. Csr. Spock listens intently, his attention hanging on every word from his mouth; Kirk can almost see the information being absorbed. Spock strokes absently at the hand resting on his side as he listens, adding comments here and there as necessary. A few minutes more, and the captain concludes his lecture.

"Spock and I will play another round so you can see everything in motion and ask questions about anything that's still unclear," he tells him.

Spock makes the first move, followed by Kirk, then Spock again. The counselor watches quietly as the pieces move around the board.

"Checkmate," Kirk announces approximately 30 minutes later.

"Hmm," Csr. Spock hums thoughtfully.

"What do you think, Spock?" The captain asks. "Ready to play a round?"

"I have a request," the counselor replies. "You have a most interesting strategy to this game, Jim, one that I find very difficult to follow. I do, however, have a theory...but I don't have experience. I ask it to be permitted that Spock and I team up to play against you."

Something primal flickers in the counselor's eyes.

"Unless taking us both on at once would be...distracting," he purrs against Spock's ear, making him lean his head back against him.

Kirk lips pull into a smirk as he stands from his chair. He unties the robe at his waist and pulls the satin back from his broad shoulders before letting it fall to a pile at his feet. A pair of soft pink silk panties hemmed with delicate lace cling to his hips and enclose a rather sizable bulge. They're similar to the pair he wore for the counselor in celebration after receiving his license-- except those were red.

Csr. Spock groans low in his throat as his eyes rake over his bare body. His hands drop down to palm at the front of Spock's boxer briefs, making the Vulcan gasp, then moan as he bites at his shoulder.

"We'll see who's distracted," Kirk murmurs.

He lowers back down into his chair, knees wide.

"Alright, let's see how many Spocks it takes to beat me in a game of chess."

Apparently, the number is greater than two, but as Kirk is draped over Spock's shoulder, laughing, followed closely by Csr. Spock as he's carried to the bedroom, who's really counting?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Apparently, Leonard Nimoy would eat lollipops on set since his makeup made his lips dry-- that's where that idea came from ;). It's silly, I know, but Star Trek was kinda silly, wasn't it? That's why I love it so much. 
> 
> Thank you to everyone who gave this fic a go, but fear not! This is not the end! As I mentioned in the comments, this originally was supposed to be a quick smut scene between Kirk and two Spocks (because, wow), but as the story developed in my head, I couldn't bear the thought of Kirk and Spock being without Mirror!Spock afterwards-- I love them being together too much! 
> 
> So, consider this the "origin story" of Kirk and his Spocks. I will be posting vignettes here and there of their lives together going forward. I cannot say when or how often I will be posting them, but I will! So stay tuned! In the meantime, check me out here: [destielissaved](https://destielissaved.tumblr.com)
> 
> Thank you again to everyone reading this, and for anyone who is wondering, these are the panties Kirk was wearing :D  
> 


End file.
